A Road that Twists
A road that twists around and round
with every step on wearing ground
I’m farther now from such reprieve
amid my dreams and what achieved.
And time has formed a hardened crust
around my heart that slowly bled
with twists and turns that lay ahead
where I’ll become the shifting dust.
Compromise when you have to
but sometimes, stand like a tree
strong through the ages to be-
Flexing, not breaking
to the passing of time,
for in moments of making
what you do, who you are will define.
What shall I do with all this freedom?
Time set between sunrise and sunset
and what I want and what could get
without leftover worries or obligations
unraveling a life with simplifications
for nothing I must do unless I choose,
nothing left to pay with years past due
if only one to love twenty four seven,
I can stretch around in my own heaven
and be the person I wanted to become
while madness around possessing some
when the only challenge to overcome
is what shall I do with all my freedom?
Won’t let old things gather around
covered in dust, forgotten by playful hands.
New every morning I leave behind the wants
when unfulfilled become old and stale
with the smell of failure I found
in the passing of time, empty time
marked by each inhale of life we hold
until no more, with each exhale
we learn to leave it behind.
Mundane, I said and out of my element
but I learned to swim in rivers unknown,
does that makes me better?
I cannot return to the place I’m from
I cannot proceed if I don’t belong
and can only do imitated greatness,
does that makes me better?
If I close my eyes in the darkness find
maps to follow blind,
maybe a place like none
where I may belong,
will that make me better?
Piece by piece we come together
parts barely fitting with smooth edges,
hard to fit between the wedges
of tight closed fingers-
And life goes on, desire lingers
while weaving dreams that fell apart,
but piece by piece with ever part
we fit together we become clear,
year after year
a picture forms that we can see
a part of you, a part of me.
And every piece we place and match
in between love and pain we catch
a glimpse of heavens, if one last piece
with grace attach
to finish all in resting peace-
I though reserved was love for each
somewhere kept easy to reach
at the right time-
I thought by right it would be mine
by asking once or twice
only to find there is a price
for letting go, to be alone
in sadness sown
while life shall pass
and love bypass-
I’ve learned that dreams
weaved in the dark will never gleam
and verses forged with greatest pain
will not retain
in every line the emotions bared,
and learned that life will not forgive
but always give,
only if we dared-
When does life ends? The final breath
the last heartbeat-
But what is life if we are not living?
If death is then the lack of breathing
does it define when we are alive?
The lack of love, to be alone
and not to feel every sunrise,
the passion gone
with blind defeat,
isn’t then life the same as death?
I stayed there, a part of me remains
waiting to resume upon my return,
if I return, for what if the road ends
leading back at the very turn
I took when I left, blood in my veins
frozen over distant lands
where I became deaf and blind.
There among cheers between friends
a part of me remains,
we always leave something behind-
Don’t you see? I’m done, fini, no more of this or that
of chasing dreams or chased in dreams –we call nightmares.
I’m done rehearsing for a dance that danced away
and left me undone – nobody cares
if rainbows shine after the rain,
if clouds have shapes or trees do sway
with tunes we ignore – since deaf we are.
I’m done with love that hides away
the wasted times in search for more
and always wanting to return – what was before
for nothing matters, nothing stay-
I’m done with all, with this or that
with many things I tried to be
but not with life or life with me.